Acting Lessons
by EffectThat
Summary: Emma Watson is widely confused as Hermione in the minds of fans. Hermione herself is widely misunderstood. What might happen to them, and those around them, if they had to act as each other, and in the other's medium?
1. Chapter 1

It was a boring day, really, at least at first. The sky, while overcast, did let in a great deal more light than usual on an English morning. Emma Watson finally had the leisure to admire the aspect of the sky from her room, seeing as she didn't start filming until later in the week. This was a welcome change from the dozen or so hours per day acting in the Harry Potter films, and after that the endless bouts of publicity in preparation for the next release. No, these were the good months, only coming around every two years. While it was fun messing about with Dan and Rupert, and she loved the boys like her own brothers, she was secretly glad that they had to go orientate themselves with the new cast without her. The times before Potter brought about this hectic schedule were fast disappearing into the shadows of her distant memory. She had to savor these moments, becoming so few as to count the hours. Wednesday would be the last day to sit, to not care about what she was wearing, to sleep in and just mope about awhile. Her mother, being the acute reader of mood that she was, was going to have a stylist take her shopping for things to wear while waiting on set, so that the gossip rags would stop their chatter about her dress at the American premiere.

Acting was nice, but she was definitely behind the boys in skill (as EMPHASIZE every OTHER word Philosopher's Stone Emma would tell you) and every part of her day had to be planned around what might happen in ten years. Should she sit with him? Wear this? Eat that? Learn A? Talk about B? Be seen with C? Sometimes it was an escape to become Hermione Granger, girl who cared only for the out come of things, and not how she looked getting there. She was smart, and that was her place in the world, and after that she would have Ron. What would she, Emma, have? Would she act or be herself? Would she be a recluse or invite the world into her home?

Decisions would wait. For now, she would simply lie there, on her bed, and let herself be for once, not be made into what They wanted.

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Hermione looked at the sky outside. It was overcast, which might mean thunderous rain in the summer, but because of the fall and closing winter, there would be snow. Maybe this would keep the boys off the pitch and have them interrupt her study. She loved the boys well, one better than he might deserve, but being alone in the common room was nice, and they got out their silly need for action out on the Quidditch pitch. She wondered what the fuss was. Frankly, she'd rather be wiping the grin of that smug little prat Malfoy's face with one of her O-grade essays on the Goblin Wars of the Loose Bootstrap than get into long-winded discussions about Quidditch, Harry's flirting skills or Ron's confidence issues. It's not that she didn't like talking to them. Life might be unbearable if she didn't have someone to talk to, especially Ron, but their discussions of late were closing her out on a regular basis. She wasn't sure about any of the Quidditch tactics, and having Ron hear her advice to Harry about his Cho problem was...censoring. How do you find yourself a bit in love with your best friend, and isn't it unbearable to keep up, especially when he's so down on himself? Cheering him up was no good, since he left more glum than before, and she couldn't come out and SAY something, could she? She'd seen how Luna, and especially Lavender, were eyeing him, and what if it was them he had liked all along? No, it was just wait-and-see.

Classes, which usually left her with something to look forward to, were beginning to get unbearable since the Toad started teaching. Luckily it was only one day a week, but seeing her every day in the Great Hall, looking smug and having her precious Decrees, was beginning to make her seethe. How would she ever get around that stupid pompous tarty bitch of a woman, and make her leave Harry alone? That left the problem of dealing with Luna being around so much of the time. Politeness wasn't working very well, in that it was very hard for Hermione to be polite to her. That left Harry's odd behavior, and the Order's business, and the current plot of Lord Voldemort to overturn.

She heard the boys entering the portrait-hole. Now was a time she simply could not deal with them. Heading up the girl's dormitory stairs, she decided she would have a midmorning nap and think about the solutions to her problems, with maybe a side trip to wonder about the way Ron might kiss, judged on his skill at eating jelly.


	2. Chapter 2

Unconsciousness closes. A fog rolls. Is someone speaking?

There may be water. Somewhere, an island bobs.

This looks like a mirror. That should be the reflection, but it's not, not really.

Wait

_wait_

Does my hair look like that?

_My hair isn't like that._

What did They do?

_They must have done it. _

I'm not...her, did they think?

_I'm not anyone, really. _

I can't be her, not just yet.

_I'm not anyone but myself._

No, it's just a new world, new mythos, just a new paycheck, and my job is done.

_I have only two worlds. I'm not going back to the old one, and I will forge a new trail for others to follow in the new. _

Any of an infinite combination of characters. None are real.

_I know what I am. I am me, and I have always been. I am. _

Well. That's settled.

_Yes. Indubitably_.

Should it be talking back like that?

_Maybe you should shut your mouth, if you don't like what you hear. Are you my animus?_

Not that I know of. I could be a leopard in here, though.

_And not the unconscious manifestation of Ron, perhaps?_

I'm not dreaming of being Rupert!

_Pity. I thought this dream could use a little spice._

And you're not...anyone?

_Just me, really. You look a bit familiar. Did I dream you on the fifth? I never remembered that one._

I know who you're supposed to be.

_Really? Am I dressed like Morgan la Fey? I thought my parents had that taken care of last year._

I must have turned stupid when I was dreaming. You know who you are.

_Hermione Granger._

Yeah. Exactly! You're here to mock me again, aren't you?

_I might have been her on the fifth. And you are?_

Emma.

_Hmm. Don't know any Emmas._

Don't get smart with me. You're a figment of my psyche.

_Sorry, you're a figment of mine. It's hard to deal with, I know, but try to keep the coming realization down the rest of the night, shall we?_

Fine, figment.

_Fine, Ronniekins._

Fine.

_FINE!_

The focus must have turned elsewhere. There was a clearing of the fog. Images settled and reflected, maybe the first time since there was a mirror.

Someone turned to their side. Far away, someone else lay on their stomach.


End file.
